


Third Time's a Charm

by TeamGwenee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Matchmaker Fic, modern-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 12:18:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18549631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamGwenee/pseuds/TeamGwenee
Summary: Sansa holds Brienne to a promise made while drunk, and it goes as well as can be expected.





	Third Time's a Charm

 “Ow.”

“Stop moving.”

_“Ow.”_

_“Stop_ moving.”

“OW!”

Sansa placed the brush with which she had just ripped a clump of snarled and tangled hair from Brienne’s scalp and picked up the hair spray.

“I told you to stop moving,” she said calmly, spraying a violent cloud around Brienne’s head of flyaway locks. Brienne squeezed her burning eyes shut and held in her breath, feeling her phone buzzing against her thigh.  Her fingers twitched towards it, only for Sansa to bat her hand away.

“Sit still,” she snapped, wielding pointed hair clips with a ferocity that had Brienne sitting straight and rigid. Waiting until her captor turned her back for a second, Brienne swiftly retrieved her phone from her pocket and saw multiple messages, all from the devil himself. Jaime Lannister, Prince of the Poisonous Tongue, Lord of Mocking Jibes and Demon God of Punchable Faces.

 

**Still with Sansa? How are**

**you looking forward to your date?**

 

Brienne grimaced, half in despair of her upcoming evening, half in pain from the pins rammed into her skull.

 

**_How did I get wrapped up_ **

**_in this?_ **

**You did give Sansa free reign to**

**set you up, you’ve got nobody**

**else to blame.**

****

**_It’s not fair, no one_ **

**_should be held to anything_ **

**_they say whilst drunk._ **

**Your alcohol tolerance**

**level is pitiful. I keep telling**

**you that you need to work on that**

**if you intend to be a**

**honorary Lannister.**

 

“Phone away!” Sansa ordered, advancing with a leather bag bursting to the brim with makeup. “We only have two hours left and we’ve barely even started.”

Brienne sighed and stowed away her phone. At least, she consoled herself, the actual date couldn’t be worse than the preparation.

 

_Date One _

Brienne blinked, eyes transfixed upon the mayhem of red wires and mutton fat twisting and twitching before her as her date ground on his dinner. She had spent the best part of the evening watching in horror as the man’s red beard gradually became slick and knotted with pieces of his dinner. Shaking her head slightly, she fixed her eyes on his face and forced herself to listen to him.

“-and Sheila, the feisty beauty, practically ripped my head off when I said that. I wasn’t scared though, oh no. She growling and swiping at me like a creature possessed, but still I wasn’t scared. If anything, I was aroused-”

“I’m sorry,” Brienne cut in politely, “Who is Sheila again? Your ex-girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend!” Tormund boomed, throwing his head back and roaring with laughter. “Gods no! She’s a bear at the sanctuary I work at?”

Brienne blinked, swallowing down the chunk of pork stuck in her gullet with difficulty. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Sheila’s a bear. You know I work at an animal sanctuary.”

“But you said she made you aroused?” Brienne stuttered.

“That’s right.” Tormund smiled at her congenially. “And a right splendid las she is too.” He leaned forward, raising his eyebrows. “You know, you remind me of her a bit.”

Brienne was going to _kill_ Sansa.

 

_Date Two _

“So, how do you know Sansa?” Brienne asked tentatively. Her date had barely spoken once since entering the restaurant, instead he set about attacking his practically raw steak as though the cow had kicked him in the balls one time too many during its lifetime. In truth, Brienne was gold this date wasn’t as much as a talker as the last one, but the silence was growing deafening and she had promised Sansa she would at least _try_.

“I set my dog on her little cunt of a sister,” Sandor muttered at long last.

“You set a dog on a _child_?” Brienne asked, rearing back in horror.

“She started it,” Sandor insisted. “The bitch slashed my tyres.” He pointed at the pile of tomatoes pushed to the corner of Brienne’s plate. “Are you gonna eat those?”

Brienne pushed the plate towards him, discretely picking her handbag from under the table. “Go ahead, they’re all yours.”

 

_Date Three _

“No!” Brienne insisted, digging her heels as she spied the man waiting for her. “Absolutely not.”

Bronn Blackwater smirked and leaned back in his chair, running a hand over hid greased back black hair and placing his peeling trainer clad feet onto the pristine white table cloth.

“Why not?” he asked. “Just give me a try, I think I could surprise you with a night wouldn’t forget,” he purred.

“And then I can be surprised with a lovely bunch of STDS,” Brienne snapped. “I’m not sharing a jug of water with you, let alone an evening.”

“Well that’s alright,” Bronn assured her. “Works been mad, and I haven’t had a shag in weeks. It will probably only last five minutes. You can have the rest of the evening to yourself.”

“What will probably last only five minutes?” Brienne’s head spun around to see Jaime standing the doorway, impeccably dressed as ever and clutching a bouquet of tulips.

“Jaime?” she asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Sansa told me to come,” Jaime said, eyes still fixed coldly on his driver. “I went into the flower shop on a whim and told Bronn to wait for you if turned up before me.”

“You mean…Bronn isn’t my date for tonight?” Brienne asked, relief coursing through her veins.

“Of course not,” Jaime said in disgust. “I know Sansa’s taste in boyfriends for you have been disastrous, but she’s not _that_ dense.”

“So, so you’re my date tonight?” Brienne asked, the truth finally dawning on her.

“I am,” Jaime admitted, suddenly bashful as he proffered the tulips. “That is, if you will have me?”

 _‘Have him?’_ Brienne thought incredulously. Of course she would have him! For all that Jaime disparaged Sansa’s judgement, sometimes she got things very, _very_ right.


End file.
